


stealing blue buffs

by catfox



Series: ggez [1]
Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Boys Kissing, Developing Relationship, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, a little bit explicit, no beta we die like jankos on lee sin, purely self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:34:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24893236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catfox/pseuds/catfox
Summary: Five sides of Nemesis that everyone sees, and one that only Selfmade does.
Relationships: Oskar "Selfmade" Boderek/Tim "Nemesis" Lipovšek
Series: ggez [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1801633
Comments: 8
Kudos: 70





	stealing blue buffs

**Author's Note:**

> for my sake, let's just pretend that eu won rift rivals 2020......
> 
> (did i forget that selfmade only joined in dec 2019? yes)
> 
> disclaimer: this is all a figment of my imagination and hence, pure fiction

**0.**

There are many, many sides to the man known as Nemesis.

It takes a special skill, Selfmade thinks, to _really_ get to know Nemesis. One that Selfmade, if he may say so himself, does possess, but it’d taken a while even for him.

It’s like Nemesis has different faces for different places. He’s got his work face, his game face, his favourite restaurant face, etcetera. It’s quite a large collection to get straight, but it’s Nemesis, so naturally Selfmade’s made a mental list to at least try.

He’s even ranked the list of Nemesis’ sides, from 1 to infinity, possibly. Selfmade’s neutral about most of them, but he’s got his favorites, as well as ones he… likes a little less.

Honestly, it’s tough to not like Nemesis for anything he does (“ _Whipped,”_ Hyli coughs, on a near daily basis) but sometimes Selfmade manages. For a fleeting half-second. 

The point is, Selfmade has a list. And it goes something like this:

**1.**

The Nemesis that Selfmade hates seeing the most is FNATIC Nemesis.

This may seem counterintuitive, since Nemesis _is_ FNATIC Nemesis, but Selfmade’s thinking about more than the title here.

He’s talking about the Nemesis that appears in League videos, on Twitter and basically anywhere public where he operates under the name FNATIC. Because that Nemesis is a fucking zombie.

Everyone says it. Nemesis doesn’t really show emotions on his face, especially in public. Well, that’s what everyone thinks, anyway. Selfmade knows how Nemesis tends to display his feelings; it’s the slow slide of fingers slipping between Selfmade’s, gentle taps on the curves of shoulders, toes curled up tight like a spring ready to burst.

All that doesn’t happen when there’s a camera around. Because FNATIC Nemesis has a character to play, and he definitely does. It’s his puzzle piece, how he fits into the rest of the team.

And sure, it’s not like Nemesis _isn’t_ normally quiet. He’s not a big fan of wearing his heart on his sleeve, and Selfmade’s used to that, despite his completely opposite approach to life.

FNATIC Nemesis is different, though. It’s watching Nemesis turn into almost somebody else, someone much colder than he is, a stoic statue who never smiles and never laughs, deadpan against all odds.

Selfmade doesn’t like FNATIC Nemesis. But right now, it’s FNATIC Nemesis that’s sitting next to him filming a video for their YouTube channel.

It’s something about a BFF Challenge, something the content team dug up from the hollow depths of YouTube. They’re supposed to answer questions about each other, and Selfmade has the memory of a goldfish, so that’s kind of how he’s doing.

At the end, he makes a fuss about Nemesis scamming him (and to be fair, well, those questions were _not_ fair), whining at the producers that he should get extra points. 

“But he cheated me! ‘What would Nemesis rather get, an Afro or a moustache? _Neither’_ ,” Selfmade complains. “It’s a scam.”

“It’s technically not a scam,” the producer answers, grinning a little too happily, in Selfmade’s opinion. “You’re supposed to guess that."

Selfmade opens his mouth to respond to that, and bring up some more very good points he has, but then. Nemesis laughs.

It’s not a giggle or whatever. He actually bursts out laughing, like he can’t hold it in anymore, throwing his head back with a full on belly laugh. And Selfmade can’t help but stare.

 _Oh._ Nemesis has a really fucking pretty laugh. Selfmade doesn’t hear it often enough.

They finish up with filming, sidestepping the subtle suggestion from their lovely producer about hugging on camera (Selfmade would really like to hug Nemesis, thank you very much, but not with all these things pointing at them). Nemesis grabs his phone and wanders off, presumably to go play solo Q, waving to Selfmade at the door.

Selfmade’s left by himself, still sitting on the filming chair, pondering over the past hour. So, FNATIC Nemesis is still pretty weird, but uncontrollable laughter Nemesis? Selfmade needs to add that to the list.

**2.**

There’s one side of Nemesis that Selfmade rarely sees, hardly enough to comment on, because the circumstances under which he appears aren’t a common occurrence.

It involves alcohol, clubs and lots of dancing. It’s a formula that Selfmade doesn’t usually see much, considering the amount of time they spend in the gaming house, but tonight’s a special occasion.

They’ve just helped EU win Rift Rivals again, earning themselves a night of celebration before they have to return home. And at someone’s suggestion (Selfmade can’t remember who; he suspects it was Rekkles, and that it’s because Perkz had mentioned something about being in this neighborhood tonight) they’re out at a nightclub with the rest of their staff members and coaches.

Selfmade likes clubs. Out of all of the members, he’s probably the most comfortable in them. In fact, he doesn’t think Bwipo’s even stepped foot in a club after moving in with his girlfriend, whom he’s currently texting in a corner of their booth.

Regardless, Selfmade is enjoying himself. He’s got a light buzz going, American girls are very pretty and the boys are very charming. He hasn’t felt so relaxed in ages.

“Hey.” Hyli nudges him with his elbow lightly, sounding incredibly amused. “Look at that.”

He gestures to the bar, and Selfmade glances over to see Nemesis sitting there, expression reminiscent of a deer caught in headlights as a beautiful blonde girl flirts with him. The girl is smiling and giggling, her fingers resting lightly on Nemesis’ thigh, and Selfmade _almost_ laughs at how lost his friend looks.

Nemesis is not a ‘club’ person. He’s a coffee shop date kind of guy, and Selfmade doesn’t think he’s ever caught Nemesis sneaking anyone into their gaming house at night, even back in MAD Lions. In fact, Selfmade’s never even witnessed Nemesis flirting with anybody. Hm. Maybe Selfmade should do something, because that girl looks like she wants to swallow Nemesis whole and Nemesis does not seem to know what to do about it.

“I’m gonna go help him,” Selfmade decides, getting up from his seat. “I’ll wingman.” 

Hyli arches an eyebrow at him. Even Bwipo looks up, a funny little knowing smile on his face. Selfmade doesn’t have time to unpack that.

“Really? You’re gonna _help_ him get laid?” Hyli asks, sounding extremely amused. “How selfless of you.”

Selfmade frowns at him, because what is _that_ supposed to mean, while Bwipo chuckles. He gets the feeling something is going on that he’s not entirely in on; maybe he should ask Rekkles whenever the Swede gets back from the G2 booth over at the other side of the club. So, possibly never. 

He won’t dwell on that now, though, because Nemesis needs help and Selfmade’s a good friend. So he leaves Hyli and Bwipo behind, wandering over to the bar and casually sidling up beside Nemesis.

“Hey, Nemi,” Selfmade greets, watching the way Nemesis’ head practically snaps towards him. 

A light blush is tinting the smaller boy’s cheeks, and Selfmade has to wonder if it’s because of the girl. So he turns his attention to her, smiling winningly. “Who’s this?”

Nemesis coughs, his voice impossibly soft as he murmurs. “Um. This is Anna. She’s… American.”

Selfmade has to stifle a laugh at how awkward Nemesis looks. He’d always known the Slovenian was shy, but honestly, it’s kind of cute. 

“Hi!” The girl waves, ticking a piece of golden hair behind her ear. “It’s nice to meet you, Tim’s friend.”

“Call me Oskar,” Selfmade introduces himself, holding his hand out to shake. He still can’t help but glance at Nemesis, who’s looking increasingly like he’d rather be anywhere but here. “So, are you and Tim enjoying yourselves?”

Nemesis’ face turns even redder at the deliberate implication in Selfmade’s tone, and he shoots Selfmade a little glare. Ah, how cute. Selfmade winks back, then focuses on Anna’s reply.

“Yeah! He’s really funny,” Anna chirps, smiling mischievously as she leans forward into Nemesis and purrs, “And _really_ handsome.” 

Nemesis mumbles something that sounds like a ‘thank you’, fiddling with his thumbs. He’s so much like a little kid sometimes, Selfmade forgets they’re the same age.

“I agree,” Selfmade nods, earning himself another tiny glare from Nemesis, but he’s having too much fun to care. “He’s really cute, right? Cute enough to dance with, don’t you think?”

Selfmade should be a professional wingman, honestly, he’s so fucking good.

“Definitely,” Anna chirps, sliding off her chair. Selfmade pokes Nemesis in the back, earning a soft ‘ow’ but successfully prompting the mid laner to follow her lead and get up.

“After you,” he says to Anna, who beams and starts making her way to the dance floor, Nemesis in tow behind her.

Selfmade watches the way Nemesis blushes, shyly taking Anna’s hand when she offers it, awkwardly tapping his feet to the beat, and he has to laugh.

Shy Nemesis is pretty adorable. It’s going high up on Selfmade’s list.

(Although, later on the night when Selfmade is fully expecting to see neither hide nor hair of Nemesis until tomorrow, the other boy pops up again and settles back into their booth.

Selfmade looks at him, puzzled. “Did you not like her?”

“She’s…” Nemesis pauses, glancing at Selfmade and then quickly looking away. “Not my type."

Hyli sighs, loudly. “Fucking idiots,” he mumbles, shaking his head. Selfmade chooses not to ask.)

**3.**

Jealous Nemesis is not something that Selfmade has the joy of witnessing often, but when he does, it’s always a good memory.

Despite appearances, Nemesis can be rather protective of their friendship. It’s been quite a while since they first met, and Selfmade can’t actually think of anyone else he’d call his best friend, so there’s that.

That’s not to say he doesn’t have other friends, of course. He’s made some connections within the LEC community and outside of it, all across the world. One such connection, of course, is Crownshot.

Selfmade had actually thought that Nemesis would like Crownshot, since they’re both from Slovenia and they both know Miky. But when Crownshot walks through the door of their gaming house on the morning of their day off, Nemesis doesn’t look all that happy.

Nevertheless, he’s Selfmade’s guest, so Selfmade walks over to greet him with one of those bro hugs. “You’re here early,” he says, to which Crownshot laughs.

“Yeah, couldn’t wait to see you,” he jokes, punching Selfmade on the arm lightly. “Hey, guys.” He waves to Hyli and Nemesis, who are both sitting on the couch, the former watching the TV and the latter on his beloved phone.

Hyli waves back, while Nemesis kind of just grunts in response. Selfmade doesn’t think much of it (it’s early and Nemesis is generally grumpy before noon), leading Crownshot to his room so they can play Warcraft.

Crownshot ends up leaving in the evening, much later than Selfmade had planned, but they’d played a lot of good games that day and he’s satisfied. He sends Crownshot off at the door, promising to invite him over again for another one of these games days soon.

The house is weirdly empty, even though Selfmade knows Rekkles had shown up at one point during the day. So he wanders over to the gaming room, and lo and behold, they’re all there. Since he’s got nothing to do, Selfmade picks up his headset and sits down at his chair, logging into the client. It might be their day off, but they’re all pretty much addicted to the damn game anyway.

He’s in champ select when he feels a tap on his left shoulder. It’s Nemesis, so Selfmade pulls his headphones off and looks over in question.

He’s not entirely sure, because Nemesis never shows it, but the mid laner looks almost annoyed. “Where’d your boyfriend go?” He says, and oh, he’s definitely annoyed.

Selfmade can’t help but find it cute. Fuck, maybe Hyli’s right. He is kind of whipped.

“Crownie’s not my boyfriend,” Selfmade answers casually, as he locks in Rek’Sai. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a tiny scowl appear on Nemesis’ face at the nickname, though it disappears just as quickly.

Selfmade hides his smirk, pretending to rest his cheek on his palm. He doesn’t know why Nemesis gets so irritated about the possibility of Selfmade having other best friends, but hey, Selfmade doesn’t mind.

“Sure seems like it,” Nemesis mutters.

Beside Nemesis, Rekkles is very clearly pretending not to eavesdrop while actually blatantly eavesdropping, looking extremely invested in the conversation taking place. Honestly.

“What, are you jealous, _Nemi?”_ Selfmade puts extra emphasis on Nemesis’ own nickname, his tone teasing. He reaches over to ruffle Nemesis’ hair, earning himself a swat on the arm as the smaller boy bats him away. “Don’t worry, you’re still my number one,” Selfmade coos, like he’s talking to a child.

And Nemesis practically is one, with the way he’s sulking. “Whatever,” he says petulantly. “Forget I said anything.”

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous,” Selfmade comments, offhandedly, while clicking through skins. He doesn’t have to look to know Nemesis’ mouth has twisted into that little pout he sometimes does when he’s like this. Selfmade likes him like this.

“I’m not jealous,” Nemesis maintains, pulling his hood up over his head. His hoodie is too big for him, nearly swallows his entire frame. He’s too cute. “It just seems like you and _Crownie_ are very close.”

“Yeah, but it’s not like I want to kiss him,” Selfmade points out, still rather amused by the whole thing, but also rather curious as to where Nemesis is going with this.

“Who do you want to kiss, then?”

The question comes out of left field, and Nemesis still isn’t looking at him, opting to hide his face—but he sounds serious. It’s a serious question.

Next to him, Hylissang wonders aloud, “Am I watching a soap opera?”

Rekkles shushes him. Selfmade ignores both of them, really considering it.

Who does he want to kiss? There’s a lot of people, right; celebrities, Twitter influencers, Faker (just so he can say he’s kissed Faker). There’s that, and then there’s Nemesis’ face popping into his mind’s eye. 

Nemesis is so pretty, really. Like a fucking porcelain doll. His lips seem really soft, like pillows. If Selfmade kissed him, he’d probably blush and get all shy and hide his face in his hands, and it’d be adorable. 

Or maybe he’d punch Selfmade. But somehow, the jungler thinks it’d be worth it.

 _You._ He could say that. It’d be the truth, even if it was for reasons of morbid curiosity, for fulfilling Selfmade’s desire to find out what Nemesis tastes like. And not for any other reason. Of course.

“Rekkles,” Selfmade says instead, and Rekkles pretends to retch.

“Don’t touch me,” he grumbles, and Selfmade grins at him.

“Why? Is it ‘cause I’m not Croatian and named Luka Perkovic?”

“Shut the fuck up, Oskar.”

Hyli laughs, and even Nemesis giggles a little, and the subject is dropped.

And if Selfmade spends a bit too much time afterwards in his room thinking about kissing Nemesis, well… it’s not his fault Nemesis is so cute when he’s jealous.

**4.**

Nemesis is drunk.

Selfmade doesn’t know what brought the alcohol into their team bonding movie night, but they’ve all had a stressful week and it’s a good break after scrims. The movie’s still playing, some chick flick that Bwipo insisted was good, but Selfmade stopped fully paying attention after the third can of beer he’d watched Nemesis ingest.

He knows the mid laner’s been going through a tough time, struggling to adapt to new metas and standards. But he tries so hard, and Selfmade gets this funny aching feeling in his chest whenever he sees Nemesis stumbling into the kitchen to make coffee, hair messed up and eyes ringed with exhaustion after pulling another all-nighter.

Selfmade hadn’t expected Nemesis to get drunk quite so quickly, though. He’s no lightweight and can usually take care of himself, but he’d barely eaten dinner and the speed at which he’s drinking is making Selfmade a little concerned.

Nemesis is currently sitting cross-legged on the floor next to an equally tipsy Hyli. He’s wearing another one of his hoodies which look enormous on him, making him seem even smaller than usual. The two of them are engaged in what seems to be a very compelling conversation about the events happening on screen.

“She’s not gonna choose the new boy, look, he’s just a passing phase,” Hyli argues, with the kind of passion he normally reserves for watching good Thresh hooks. Then again, he _is_ drunk.

“But the new boy’s hot,” Nemesis points out, which makes Selfmade glance at the TV screen to confirm the statement. He’s not _that_ hot. “And he gets her. You know.”

“They’re already dating, why would she give that up?” Hyli insists.

“The new guy has great hair,” Nemesis shoots back.

Selfmade frowns. He hadn’t noticed that. 

“You’re so shallow.” Hyli throws his hands up, exasperated. “Do you only like people for their looks, Nemi?”

When did Hyli start calling Nemesis that, anyway? Is it only when he’s drunk?

“Yes,” Nemesis says staunchly. “My soulmate must be the most handsome person in the room.”

“So who’s the most handsome person in the room right now, then?” Hyli challenges, a mischievous glint in his eyes. Oh, no.

At the other end of the couch, Rekkles sits up, looking interested. “Go on, I wanna hear this.”

Bwipo laughs quietly at that, the movie evidently having been abandoned for the time being. 

Nemesis crosses his arms. “I’m not saying,” he answers, stubborn.

Selfmade wonders how much of this either of them will remember tomorrow. Won’t matter either way, since there are three others who will definitely remind them.

Hyli, apparently expecting this answer, immediately counters with, “What if we make it a bet? If the girl—“

“Lara Jean,” Bwipo interjects, helpfully.

“If Lara Jean,” Hylissang continues smoothly, “picks her boyfriend instead of the new guy, you have to tell us who you think the hottest person in the room is…”

“Fine!”

“And kiss him,” Hyli finishes triumphantly, and Selfmade suddenly really, really wants the movie to end.

Again with the morbid curiosity. It’ll get Selfmade in trouble one day.

Nemesis seems to reconsider that for a moment, but then he holds his hand out. “Deal,” he states firmly, looking the most sober he’s been all night.

Hyli looks delighted, taking Nemesis’ hand. “Deal. Let’s watch the movie, then."

Bwipo, who’s already seen the end, is shaking his head, but doesn’t seem too eager to get between the two of them. Selfmade wouldn’t; drunk people are terribly hard to reason with.

So instead, he pays attention to the movie, watching as the girl decidedly does not pick the new guy, running back into the arms of her boyfriend. Well.

“I win!” Hyli crows, seemingly far too smug, which makes Selfmade wonder about the integrity of this deal, but now isn’t the time for that. “Go on, Nemi. Tell us.”

“Next thing you know, he’ll kiss you, Hyli,” Rekkles observes, sounding highly amused, which makes Bwipo burst out laughing.

“The greatest love story since Twilight,” he jokes.

In Selfmade’s opinion, Twilight wasn’t even that good. But whatever.

Hyli doesn’t seem all that worried about the possibility of this plan backfiring in him. He leans back against the sofa, gesturing at Nemesis. “Whenever you’re ready.” 

Nemesis frowns, picking at a thread on his sleeve. “Fine, I’ll say, but you can’t laugh at me,” he pouts, which shouldn’t be as cute as it is, and really, why is Selfmade still listening to this conversation?

Well, because he wants to know too, is the answer to that. He’s self-aware. But not enough to unpack the _why_ behind it.

“Pinky promise.” Hyli pats his heart, then closes his mouth, waiting.

It’s far too tense in here. Isn’t this just a stupid game?

“Oskar,” Nemesis says suddenly, startling Selfmade. 

“Yes?” He asks, momentarily clueless.

Nemesis looks at him, dead serious. “Oskar,” he repeats, and _oh,_ Selfmade gets it.

“Well, isn’t that a surprise.” Rekkles’ voice is practically dripping with sarcasm, but Selfmade isn’t paying attention.

Nemesis thinks _what_ now? That Selfmade is… handsome? Even more than Rekkles and Bwipo and Hyli? Selfmade is fairly sure he’s short-circuiting. He feels like a fish out of water.

“Um, thanks,” he murmurs, unsure how to proceed from here. Is Nemesis really going to…

The smaller boy stands up with deliberate motions, taking two slow steps towards Selfmade. “Can I?” He asks, quietly.

Without thinking, purely on instinct, Selfmade nods. And then Nemesis’ lips are on his.

All that thinking Selfmade’s done about kissing Nemesis? Every drop of it is distilled into this; this feeling, Nemesis’ mouth soft and warm and so fucking sweet against Selfmade’s, his tongue swiping curiously across the seam of Selfmade’s lips, and it’s all so _much._

Nemesis makes a noise, muffled by Selfmade’s mouth, a quiet little whine high in his throat and it’s like a string snaps. Selfmade can’t help it, he wraps both arms around Nemesis’ slender waist and tugs the smaller boy forward, into his lap, and Nemesis moves so willingly, so obediently, it makes Selfmade’s blood rush.

He kisses Nemesis like he’s starving, and he is, Selfmade wants more and more of Nemesis, wants to absolutely devour him. It’s like a dam’s been broken, the moment Nemesis said his name, and Selfmade doesn’t care anymore about who’s watching or why or how, he just wants Nemesis.

Maybe Selfmade’s tipsier than he thought. Maybe it’s just because it’s Nemesis, and kissing Nemesis makes Selfmade feel drunker than any bottle ever could.

He has to pull away at some point, though, but only because he’s getting breathless and needs air. Nemesis is panting too, fingers curled tightly into the fabric of Selfmade’s shirt. His eyes lock into Selfmade’s, and something seems to shift in them. Selfmade holds his breath.

The next moment, Nemesis is scrambling off the sofa and running for the hallway. There’s the sound of a door banging in the distance, and then dead silence.

Selfmade exhales, closing his eyes for a moment. He’s so goddamn tired.

“Wow,” Rekkles says, softly, reaching over to pat Selfmade’s shoulder comfortingly. “Not the best way to find out, is it?” He shoots a glare in Hyli’s direction as he says it.

Hyli at least has the grace to look sheepish. “At least they got it out there, right?” He tries.

Selfmade sighs, wanting nothing more than to bury himself in his sheets and think about the taste of Nemesis lingering on his lips. Well, that’s not true; there is something he wants more, but it’s running away from him faster than Selfmade can even speak.

“I think I’m gonna go to bed,” Selfmade decides, standing up. He can’t look at the rest of the team, because he knows he’ll see pity in Bwipo’s eyes and concern in Rekkles’ and guilt in Hyli’s, and those are a lot of emotions Selfmade can’t handle right now. “Goodnight.”

He receives a chorus of good nights in response, and heads off down the hallway. He can vaguely hear Rekkles chastising Hyli back in the living room, but honestly, Selfmade isn’t even sure Hyli or Nemesis will remember all this tomorrow.

So, drunk Nemesis. It’s on the list, but the jury’s still out on that one.

**5.**

Selfmade doesn’t know why Nemesis is doing this, but it’s really starting to piss him off.

It starts with Rekkles. It’s been a week since the Kissing Thing, and Nemesis has been acting like nothing happened. Maybe he really forgot; Hyli did, though he did apologize to Selfmade privately after being made aware of the events that occurred. Although no one’s had the heart to try and tell Nemesis, based on his whole running away reaction.

So perhaps Nemesis isn’t acting, and the alcohol really cleansed his brain of the memory entirely. But that still doesn’t explain why he’s sitting in Rekkles’ lap.

It’s not like it’s something that happens often between them. In fact, the whole team mostly sticks to friendly hugs and bro handshakes (and drunken make out sessions, for Selfmade and Nemesis). Occasionally someone will sit on someone else when there’s not enough space, and they’re all secure enough to be fine with it, but there’s a whole stretch of empty couch beside Nemesis and yet he’s still sitting on Rekkles.

Selfmade ignores the gnawing inside his chest, as well as the almost apologetic look Rekkles gives him, walking straight past them to settle in the armchair. He doesn’t look over even once during the whole draft meeting, instead paying unusually apt attention to the whiteboards Mithy is using.

Then, as if just Rekkles wasn’t enough, Nemesis moves to Hyli after a little while. Granted, Hyli is just sitting beside them, but still, it’s not like Nemesis _has_ to.

Then again, he didn’t _have_ to kiss Selfmade and then run away, either.

The draft meeting ends after Nemesis has successfully played musical chairs with all three of the other FNATIC members, avoiding Selfmade like he’s the plague. Mithy looks curious about the whole affair, but it’s not weird enough for him to be worried so he doesn’t comment.

Selfmade is really fucking annoyed, though. For a variety of reasons, some more irrational than others. Nemesis looks so stupidly small in the laps of everyone else, like a goddamn teddy bear or something. Doesn’t he have any hoodies that fit him properly? Why are they all so big? Why isn’t Nemesis _taller_?

Okay. Okay, this is fine. Selfmade is fine.

They get dinner delivered, eating it in the living room. Nemesis spends the entire time in the lap of Bwipo, who doesn’t look bothered but does glance at Selfmade every once in a while, a little knowing smile playing on his lips.

Selfmade is aware that he looks like someone just told him his cat died. He doesn’t care.

When dinner is over, Selfmade is the first to leave, heading straight for his room. They don’t have scrims tonight, so he’s free to grind solo Q until his eyes fall out, and that’s just what he plans to do.

It’s nearly ten by the time there’s a knock on his door. Selfmade is expecting Bwipo or Rekkles, coming to say goodbye for the day before they leave for home, but when he opens his door, it’s Nemesis standing there, fiddling with his sweater paws.

Honestly. Sweater paws. Is he out of clean clothes or something?

Selfmade’s first reaction is to close the door, but that would be rude, and Nemesis is still his best friend despite recent events. So he sighs and stands aside, letting Nemesis come in, closing the door behind him.

“Hey,” Nemesis greets, voice soft, and Selfmade has to do everything in his power to not just… melt. Give in. It’s so easy to give in to Nemesis, like following the tide of a river.

“What’s up?” Selfmade forces himself not to stare at Nemesis’ face. Have his lips always been quite so pink and glossy? Is this a new thing? 

Inadvertently, Selfmade thinks back to that night. Nemesis in his lap, hips pressed against Selfmade’s, kissing him hungrily. Selfmade is ashamed to say that the experience has made its way into his dreams more than once at this point.

He still doesn’t know what’s going on with the whole _him and Nemesis_ thing. But maybe Selfmade’s starting to get it.

“Um.” Nemesis swallows thickly, looking very much like he did back in the club with Anna. That feels like it happened eons ago. “I need to talk to you.”

Selfmade arches an eyebrow, a little bemused. “Okay.” He sits down on his bed and gestures for Nemesis to do the same. “Go ahead.”

Nemesis clears his throat with determination, looking up to meet Selfmade’s eyes. “I want to apologize,” he says, all in a rush, words spilling out of his mouth all at once, “for running away that night. And also for pretending it didn't happen, and the thing with the other members. I was trying to... well, it doesn't matter. It wasn’t fair to you, especially after I did, um, _that_.”

So he does remember. Colour Selfmade surprised. But he doesn’t think Nemesis is quite done yet, so he waits.

“But I wanted you to know,” Nemesis continues, pressing on, “that I don’t regret it. K-kissing you, I mean. I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.”

It feels a little bit like Selfmade’s a bowling pin and Nemesis is the ball. It’s jarring.

“How long?” Selfmade can’t help but blurt, because that’s the only thing he can think of to ask and he really wants to know.

Nemesis twiddles his thumbs. “Uh, maybe a year now,” he admits, with a touch of sheepishness in his voice.

A whole _fucking_ year. Nemesis is an idiot. Selfmade is also an idiot.

“Why?” Selfmade asks so quickly it sounds like a demand, but every cell in his body is singing and his heart is on fire and he needs to know.

Nemesis doesn’t hesitate. “Because I’ve been in love with you for that long.”

This is a Nemesis fueled by sheer willpower and a hint of guilt, a Nemesis that’s figured things out and is sick of waiting around on Selfmade to do the same, a Nemesis who finally knows what he wants and is taking it.

Selfmade likes this Nemesis.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” Selfmade says, the words tumbling out of his mouth without him even having to form them, to think them, and Nemesis barely has time to nod before Selfmade’s mouth is on his.

Selfmade kisses him with all the feelings of realizing that you’re in love with your best friend, the rush of emotions, the yearning and the impatience and the zeal. Nemesis kisses him back just as hungrily, teeth scraping against Selfmade’s lip, clambering into Selfmade’s lap like he belongs there—and he _does,_ not in anyone else’s, just Selfmade’s.

“You’re so fucking dumb,” Selfmade mumbles against Nemesis’ mouth, his fingers slipping underneath the hem of Nemesis’ hoodie to stroke at the bare skin underneath, making Nemesis shudder lightly.

“Yeah,” Nemesis agrees, resting his forehead on Selfmade’s. “You too.”

“True,” Selfmade breathes out, closing his eyes briefly, “but I love you, so it doesn’t matter, right?”

Nemesis beams, and Selfmade can feel it against his lips, the way Nemesis’ mouth turns upwards at the corners. He wants to kiss Nemesis forever. “You’re right,” Nemesis nods, as Selfmade trails his mouth down Nemesis’ jaw line, pressing kisses against his neck. “Absolutely right. _So_ fucking right, Oskar—“ Selfmade bites into Nemesis’ milky skin, hard enough to leave a bruise, savoring the way Nemesis whines, head tilting backward to give Selfmade more room to work. 

“Am I still right?” Selfmade murmurs, teasingly, tongue soothing the skin where he’d bit. Nemesis grips his shoulders, looking just a little dazed.

“Do that again, and you will be,” Nemesis huffs out, and then he gasps as Selfmade pushes him gently onto his back, his head cushioned by a pillow.

Selfmade hovers over Nemesis for a moment, taking in the view; Nemesis is so fucking gorgeous with his face all red and his lips all shiny and a purpling bruise decorating his neck. Selfmade wants to engrave the image into his mind.

“What?” Nemesis asks after a moment of Selfmade not moving, looking almost a little self-conscious. “Do you—do you wanna stop?”

Not even if there was a gun pressed to his head. “No fucking way,” Selfmade says, with feeling, and then he kisses Nemesis again and the smaller boy is arching up into his lips and it feels so _right_ that Selfmade swears he’s never going to spend his free time doing anything else ever again.

So, apparently, the best Nemesis is the one that’s in love with Selfmade. Selfmade likes it.

("What brought this on, anyway?" Selfmade wonders, much later, when Nemesis' head is lolling against his chest and they're wrapped up in blankets on Selfmade's bed. "You coming in here to talk to me."

Nemesis coughs. "There was, uh, an intervention..." A pause. "They threatened my OnePlus."

Selfmade laughs out loud. Nemesis smiles against his skin.)

**6**.

And then there’s one side of Nemesis, one that nobody else has ever seen, one that only comes out in very specific scenarios under very specific circumstances.

It’s Selfmade’s favourite. Hands down, no contest.

Because Nemesis is a work of art, like this. Lips quivering, kneeling on the floor in front of Selfmade, neck bared and covered with assorted shades of hickeys. Eyes big and round and pleading. Mouth red and bitten, desperation written into every one of his beautiful features.

And, best of all—

“ _Please_ ,” Nemesis begs, hands shaking in his lap.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Selfmade croons, tilting Nemesis’ head upwards with a finger. He loves it when he has Nemesis like this, all pliant and needy and whiny, so pretty, so fucking _obedient._

Nemesis whines, high in his throat. “I wanna—please, Oskar, I—“

“What do you want?” Selfmade lets his voice turn hard for a moment, just enough to make Nemesis’ eyes go even wider, enough to make him even more desperate. Secretly, though, Selfmade knows what he wants, will give him anything he wants, even if he has to go to the moon to get it.

“Please fuck me,” Nemesis chokes out, squirming on his knees. Selfmade smirks.

“Good boy, Nemi,” he drawls, and Nemesis _whimpers_.

Yeah, Selfmade definitely likes this Nemesis the best. But he won’t ever tell anyone that.

**7.**

Hylissang gives Selfmade a disgusted look when he walks into the kitchen. 

“You’re twisted, man,” he grumbles, pouring orange juice into his mug. “Please stop making your boyfriend scream your name every night. I’m about to move out too.”

Selfmade grins, the memory of Nemesis underneath him buzzing pleasantly in his mind. “Would you? Then we can fuck in the kitchen, too,” he answers mischievously, to which Hyli groans loudly. 

“I hate you,” Hyli declares, walking out. Selfmade turns his attention to making coffee as fast as humanly possible so he can return to the beautiful boy sleeping in his bed. He wonders if he should maybe tone it down tonight, so Hyli can presumably sleep properly.

Eh, another night won’t kill him.

**Author's Note:**

> if you don’t think selfmade is the biggest top ever, pls don’t interact
> 
>   
> twitter on my profile <3


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